


Terrible Parents, Disaster Children and One (1) Ray of Hope

by Bloopydoo (UNDERTALESIN)



Category: Thomas the Tank Engine - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Bartender!Henry, Birthday Party, Car Accidents, Child Abuse, Domestic Violence, Eventual Happy Ending, Happy Ending, Heavy Angst, High School, Homophobia, I'm Bad At Tagging, I've probably missed stuff, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Cheating, M/M, Please Don't Hate Me, Post-High School, Press and Tabloids, Their lives suck okay, WARNING HEAVY SHIT, conversion therapy, i swear it gets better, i think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-29
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2020-11-24 07:21:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 14,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20903807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UNDERTALESIN/pseuds/Bloopydoo
Summary: Gordon had a bad home life. So did Henry, Spencer, Scott and a few others.This is the story of how they got out, and got the happy ending they deserved.





	1. Introductions

**Author's Note:**

> This stemmed from a vent fic over a year, ranting about parents, terrible people, and the whole shebang. Pray for Gordon, Boi's gonna need it.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Backstory, and a meeting.  
Song for this chapter: Oblivion Remix (Feat. Lily Potter) - Rufi-O

Gordon curled up in a ball, shaking, as his parents screamed at each other in the next room and North desperately tried to mediate the argument. As the eldest child, it fell to North to try to placate their parents even if his efforts were fruitless. Gordon hated it when their parents did this, when they fought viciously and there was nowhere he could hide.

Scott ran in, steps unusually light. He'd learned not to be as loud as he usually was when they were like this, lest their father's wrath and vitriol fall on him instead. He spotted Gordon hiding under the table, and crawled under to sit next to him. 

“Gordon? Gordon please, talk to me!” He whispered, trying to be as quiet as possible. Scott wrapped a comforting arm around his brother as Gordon buried his face in his shoulder.

“... Why are they like this, Scott?” 

Scott had no answer, and simply held Gordon a little tighter. Gordon let the tears streak down his cheeks, and clutched at Scott's clothing. Scott was wearing his favourite track hoodie, and its smell was a comforting mix of grass, dew and breakfast pancakes.

Scott held him until the shouting died down, and led his brother back to bed.

\---

Ten years later, and Gordon found that he was getting worse and worse at hiding.

As he dashed out the door, he could hear his father rage at him from the lounge while his cousins tried to defend him. His mother had left years ago, and Gordon envied her the freedom she'd received. With North away studying overseas, no one could rein Nigel Gresley in.

Faced with the prospect of having to sneak back in during the early hours of the morning, Gordon decided to hang out in the forest. It’d be wet from the rain, but at least there'd be no one there to disturb him.

As he neared the edge of the trees, he noticed a figure in green curled up at the foot of one of the larger pines. He approached slowly, careful not to spook them.

The other boy was crying, struggling to breathe between sobs. He'd been scolded again, for being 'useless’ and an 'idiot’. When he'd noticed Gordon, he'd made an effort to be quiet and unnoticed. His shoulders shook violently as he attempted to sob silently.

Gordon sat down beside him with telegraphed slowness, easing himself onto the grass. He listened to his companion wheeze quietly, picking at the moss beneath them. 

“Are you okay? You sick?”

The boy shook his head, each breath laboured. “...Asthma…” He croaked weakly.

“Do you have a puffer?”

He sniffed, shaking his head. Gordon reached into his bag, and pulled out an old Ventolin he'd been given as a prank gift. It was a week expired, but it was unused and the best Gordon had.

Gordon watched as the boy sat cross legged and took a dose of the medicine, his shakiness lessening as his airways cleared. He waited next to Gordon, just trying to keep his breathing under control as Gordon patted him reassuringly on the back. “That's it, just breathe.” 

‘What could bring someone to such a state?’ Gordon wondered. His mind was tangling itself in knots, trying to figure out how someone could come to be like this.

His new acquaintance flinched at the first pat, but when no pain followed the movement he relaxed into Gordon's hold. “...Thank you…” He murmured.

“No problem. Are you breathing okay now?”

He nodded. “Sorry to be a bother.” He sniffed, wiping tears from his face. “I'll just get out of your way.”

“No need… I'm not going anywhere particular.” Gordon paused, chucking a small clump of plant at another tree.

“...You're going to spread the moss.”

“Huh?”

“The moss. You're spreading any spores that stuff released.” They sighed as they stared up into the branches of the pine, blinking back exhausted tears. “Trust me, I'm doing biology.”

Gordon was shocked for a second, before his face split with a grin. He hadn't had an opportunity for some good banter since Scott moved out. Gordon relaxed a little, slouching against the trunk behind him.

“Well, Mr 'Doing Biology’, what're you doing under a tree? Studying it?”

His companion shot him an unamused look, though it quickly split with a grin. “Was feeling bad. Had to _tree _-t myself.”

The pleasant rumble of Gordon's laughter filled the air, followed by the softer sound of the other boy’s. Gordon smiled, and patted their knee gently. “That's good. I _moss _-t remember that one.”

They broke up into giggles once more, and Gordon found he really liked the smile on his companion’s face. He watched as the boy wiped his face with his sleeve. 

“Why are you out here? Surely you have better things to do than hang out in a damp forest.”

Gordon’s expression turned stormy, and he glared off to the side. He straightened his back, pulling his knees up to his chest. “Surprisingly, no. A damp forest is the most pleasant place in my life at the moment.” However much he wished it wasn’t true.

The boy gave him a sideways glance, and placed a gentle hand on his arm. “It’s not healthy to bottle things up,” he'd whispered, “even if it’s easier to do.”

Gordon sighed, watching water drip from the pine needles above onto his jeans. It was almost calming, and it gave him something to focus on. “My… father… is not proud of me. I’m the youngest son, and my accomplishments are nothing compared to my siblings’. We fight often, and I’ve learned to just run away.” A soft whine almost escaped his throat, and Gordon took a breath to steady himself. “It was almost as bad when Mum was around, but she left years ago, when I was younger. North isn't here to protect me anymore, and Scott… Well, he's busy being a star.”

He braced himself for the disgusted look, or even worse, the undisguised pity that would surely be in his companion’s eyes. He was surprised when all he found was understanding. The boy scooted a little closer, resting his head gently on Gordon’s shoulder.

“I’ve always been sickly. I get ill easily, and I find it hard to actually go to places for fear I’ll get sick again. It’s also expensive, so my family doesn’t like it either. I’m… below average for my family. I never measure up to the others. And I’m held to their standards, even though they moved on years ago. I’m not my Dad’s kid either, so I cop a lot of flack from Mum. She’s harsh, trying to appease someone who doesn’t care.”

Gordon glanced over, and saw the tears welling in the boy’s eyes. Gordon wrapped an arm around him comfortingly, and they sat together for a while. When the boy checked his phone, the smile morphed into a grimace. 

“12:50 am. 10 minutes to curfew, and my house is 15 minutes’ walk away. I’m going to get grounded. Heh, _grounded. _”

Gordon pushed himself to his feet, then turned and offered the boy a hand up. “I’ll walk you back, if you want.” He looked up in shock, but took Gordon’s hand and let himself be helped up.

“I… Thanks, that would be nice.”

Gordon smiled, pulling them close and walking them home. Because the lights were off, the pair thought everyone had gone to sleep.

“So, this is where I leave you. Thanks for the escort, uh…”

“Gordon. I’m Gordon.”

“Hi Gordon, I’m Henry.”

They shared a cheeky smile, then Henry disappeared up the path back to his house. Gordon watched him go, and then turned and left. 

He missed the lights turning on, the banshee-like screeching, and the silent tears of pain that resulted. Gordon went home, snuck into bed, and fell fast asleep thinking about his new friend.


	2. Boundaries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Always be careful when discussing sensitive information. You never know who's listening.
> 
> Also, sitting under trees is fun.  
Song for this chapter: Falling for U (Peachy, Mxtoon)

Henry wasn’t at school the next day, but he was the day after. Gordon caught up to him in the library, and murmured his name as loudly as he could without getting into trouble. Henry’s head shot up in shock, but the grin he gave was priceless.

“Gordon! It’s nice to see you.”

Gordon slid into the seat next to Henry, setting his laptop on the table. “Hey, Henry! It’s nice to see you too… were you sick yesterday?”

Henry glanced around, then shook his head imperceptibly. Gordon raised an eyebrow.

“How often do they keep you home?” He whispered.

“All the time. Whenever she feels like yelling at me.”

Gordon noticed a thin layer of powder on Henry's face, but Henry grabbed his hand before he could smudge it.

“Not here. I can't reapply it, and I can't walk around at school with bruises.”

Gordon’s jaw nearly dropped. “Henry…”

Henry leant against Gordon gently, pulling his biology notes closer so they seemed to be studying. Gordon draped his arm around Henry’s shoulders, and offered what comfort he could. In a corner of the library, Spencer watched in shock.

\---

After school, Spencer cornered Gordon in the locker room.

“What was that? In the library today?”

Gordon blinked. “It’s just Henry, nothing special.”

Spencer groaned. "You know what Gresley would do if he found out?! Gordon, you can’t do this!”

Gordon’s gaze was hard. “Butt out, Spencer. I was only helping a friend.” He pushed past his cousin, storming out the door. Spencer leant on the lockers for support, massaging his temples. 

“Your friend will get you killed.”

One of the seniors disappeared around the corner, having heard the whole conversation.

Gresley Senior would be very interested in this.

-

Gordon met Henry back at the forest that evening, and sat heavily beside him.

“Had a long day?”

Gordon huffed. “My cousin means well, but sometimes don’t know when to stop. He can be so annoying… well, it can’t be helped.”

Henry smiled weakly. “He cares about you, at least. That’s good, right?”

Gordon nodded, but sighed. “I suppose. It's just… he's overbearing sometimes, and I can’t stand it.”

Henry chuckled. “You can't choose your family, unfortunately.”

Gordon smiled. “But you can choose your friends, which is why I hang out with you.”

Henry blushed, and punched Gordon softly on the arm. Gordon grinned, and sat back against the tree.

“I can safely say that you are the first person to sit under a tree in a damp forest with me.”

It was Gordon's turn to chuckle at the thought. “Imagine if there was a club for sitting randomly under trees in the forest. We'd fit right in.”

Henry started giggling, and Gordon liked the way it made him feel.

They leant against each other and the tree, unaware of an uninvited guest just out of sight. They didn’t hear the shutter click of the camera, or retreating footsteps. They were utterly focused on each other.


	3. Complications

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The most "Perfect" families often have facades they present to the outside world.  
In which Nigel makes a dangerous discovery, and Henry's mother is truly awful.  
Song for this chapter: Saint Bernard (Lincoln)

Gordon managed to get Henry back to his house before curfew, and this time he decided to give Henry a little something to remember him by. He pulled Henry into a tight hug, rubbing his back comfortingly.

“I'll see you tomorrow, then.”

Henry hugged him back, smile bright. “Tomorrow. See you, Gordon.”

“See you, Henry.”

After Gordon got back to the house, he’d gone straight to his room to avoid everyone else. But upon opening the door, he found his father sitting on his bed, looking at something on his phone.

“What is this, Gordon?” He asked as he held out his phone for Gordon to see.

Gordon’s eyes went wide at the photo of himself and Henry from the forest, leaning against each other and chatting with smiles on their faces.

“That’s… That’s Henry. He’s my friend.”

Nigel Gresley chuckled bitterly, lip curling in disgust. “A friend. Just a friend, hmm?”

Gordon was frozen with fear. He couldn’t say anything, the words wouldn’t come out. But it wasn’t fear for him.

It was for Henry.

Scott had a close friend in high school, Truro, whom their father had disapproved of. He said it was because of his family connections, but the entire family knew it was because Nigel was homophobic.

And Gordon's father was powerful.

Truro was in a major car crash 3 weeks before Scott was set to graduate, and afterwards his entire family moved away. Scott was crushed.

Gordon and the others later found out that Scott and Truro had been in a relationship, and Scott moved out the day he graduated. He still sent Gordon occasional postcards and such, but their father would rip them up and throw them in the fire. Scott had managed to get the hell out of this place, and Gordon understood that urge and its origin. For Scott, it was Truro. For him...

If Henry got hurt because of him, Gordon knew he would never forgive himself.

“Well, Gordon. Make sure I never hear anything _unusual_ about this ‘friend’ of yours. I will not lose my youngest son to _utter_ _nonsense _.”

Gresley stood, and seemed to remember something. 

“Oh, and I talked to his mother this afternoon. She seemed quite shocked. I'd imagine he'll be getting a little _ reminder _ of what happens to people like _ him _.”

Gordon’s father strode past him, slamming the door shut. Gordon stumbled weakly to his desk, and collapsed into the chair. He rested his head in his hands, hoping against hope that this was all some sort of hellish dream. 

Spencer watched his uncle leave Gordon’s room, and bit his lip. He gathered up the courage to knock on the door once Gresley’s steps had faded.

“Gordon? Uh… Are you alright?”

Gordon didn’t answer, and Spencer pushed the door open a little. It creaked softly, and Spencer winced.

“Did you tell him?” Gordon asked tonelessly.

“No.”

Gordon could tell Spencer was telling the truth. Though his cousin could con almost any other person, Gordon had always been able to see through his words.

"If… if something should happen… would you help me?" Gordon was shaking.

"I would. You deserve that much."

Spencer moved a little closer, and patted Gordon's back comfortingly. Gordon leaned into the touch, wishing Scott was still here. He would have known what to do.

-

Henry, meanwhile, was facing a different foe. A screeching, angry mother who'd received an anonymous copy of the photo from the woods.

“How could you do this, you ungrateful shit! I hoped that maybe being around your siblings could improve you, but you only seem to reject every attempt to help you succeed! You're sick! Maybe that's the reason you're sick all the time, huh? These… _ disgusting _ preferences of yours.”

Henry kept his head down and his mouth shut, hoping his mother would be done soon. But it was not to be.

“Look at me, you perverse little rat! You're a disgrace! Oh, I regret ever having you, you've brought nothing but trouble!”

She grabbed his left hand, and Henry panicked.

He shoved her, trying to make her to let go of him. Her grip only tightened, and her nails dug into his skin.

She started dragging him toward the stove.

“Please, please! Mum, please! Stop!”

There was a pan of hot oil still on the stove, left over from frying salmon. She grabbed it, and they inched toward the sink.

Henry was sobbing, whimpering. He closed his eyes, praying to any deity that would listen.

His prayers were not answered.

It took a moment, but the heat of the oil was soon searing the back of his hand. Henry howled with pain and fear, managing to yank his hand free before she could start burning his palm.

He shot her a tearful glare, before rushing into the upstairs bathroom.

He locked the door with his right hand, then turned on the cold water. He let out a weak whine as the water soothed the heat of the burn, and rinsed away what oil remained.

He got a good look at the burn, and winced. A second degree burn, for sure. Worryingly, it wasn’t extremely painful. Probably some nerve damage, too.

He wrapped a clean, damp cloth around his hand, and curled up with his back against the door. As he fell asleep, he wondered how Gordon was doing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh dear. It's not looking very good, is it?


	4. Consequences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens, and new characters get involved.  
Henry and Gordon are gonna need support to get through this unscathed.  
Song for this chapter: Prom Dress (mxmtoon)

Thursday saw neither of them at school. 

Gordon faked a fever and stomach ache, granting him a day of needed reprieve. He lay in his room, staring blankly at the wall as his nervous fingers twisted a stray ball of yarn into a thin cord. He would later make it into a bracelet for Henry, for the sake of having something to do.

Henry spent the day in the forest, hand in a tea-towel, working up the courage to call Edward. 

The air was cool but not cold, and the burn hurt less than it had the day before. But the blisters and the red skin were a constant reminder of what his mother had done. What someone he was supposed to trust had done to him.

His phone was buzzing gently, and he scooped it up with his right hand. 

“Edward?”

“Henry, I got your texts. I’m standing at the edge of the forest with Victor. Are you here yet?”

Henry looked up, and waved at them through the trees. Edward caught sight of him, and quickly began pulling Victor over. Henry watched them struggle through the low-lying brambles and roots, remembering the way he’d done the same almost 2 years ago. Being sixteen seemed so far away now.

Edward finally managed to drag Victor over, and they sat down beside Henry. Edward noticed the tea-towel, and glanced up at Henry questioningly.

Henry lifted the tea-towel, and both Victor and Edward flinched.

“¡Ay Dios mio!” Victor whispered in utter shock.

Edward was a faint green, and looked ready to vomit. “Who...?”

Henry hung his head. “My mother.”

Victor’s jaw was hanging so low it might have been on the floor, but Edward was on his feet in a moment, pressing the heels of his palms to his eyes.

“Your own… That fucking  _ bitch! _ ”

Edward had never sworn like that before. He turned to Henry, eyes shining with panic.

“Please tell me you’re not going back there…?”

Henry looked away, cheeks colouring with shame. “I have nowhere else to go… and you know I can’t stay with you.”

“I wish that weren’t true, but I’d loathe trying to squeeze you into a dorm with 12 people already in it. God, we only have 4 beds.” Edward didn’t mention that the lack of appropriate accommodations had the marks of Gresley’s claws in it.

Victor managed to regain some semblance of composure, and began treating Henry’s hand. He tried to ignore the circular scars dotted along Henry's arm.

“The wound is not so large, thankfully, but I am worried about your hand. Is it painful?”

Henry shook his head. “Not really. I pressed the edges gently to try and see, but I could only feel pressure. I think my nerves might be a bit damaged.”

Victor nodded. “Possibly. It’ll definitely scar, but I think you should retain full use of it.”

He wrapped it in a clean gauze bandage, and patted Henry’s shoulder gently. “Be careful. You could do serious damage to yourself. And don’t pop any blisters.”

Henry patted Victor’s hand in thanks, and tucked his arm to his chest. Edward was pacing, and Henry went silent.

At last, Edward threw his hands up in defeat. 

“I can’t think of anything. I want to help, but…”

Henry chuckled weakly from his spot amongst the leaves.

“I know, I know. But, uh… How can I explain this away?”

-

On Friday, they were both back. Henry played off the burn as a kitchen accident, despite it being obviously not. No one cared enough to pry.

Except Gordon.

“Henry, what happened?!”

Henry turned to see Gordon leaning against the locker next to his, a few students in the corridor staring questioningly at them.

“I burnt my hand on a pan while cooking,” Henry replied. “It wasn't pleasant.”

Gordon raised an eyebrow, but didn't make a fuss. In private, he was far less accepting. As they stood at the edge of the oval, partially hidden by bleachers, he brought it up again.

“What really happened? You're not usually so spaced out.”

Henry tried to deflect Gordon's questions, with little success.

“I don't know what you mean. I just messed up in the kitchen.”

“Henry, I've been holding your left hand for 5 minutes and you haven't noticed.”

Henry instinctively jerked his hand out of Gordon's, relaxing a little once he registered that his hand was actually not in danger. 

Gordon sighed, and Henry glanced down at the grass. Anything to avoid meeting his eyes.

Henry stiffened in surprise as Gordon pulled him into a gentle hug, careful not to squash his hand. 

“I'm sorry, Henry…” Gordon whispered. 

Henry's eyes filled with tears, and he patted Gordon's back consolingly. “It's not your fault, you know.”

Gordon nodded, but his grip tightened ever so slightly. “I know. But I still feel like it was my fault she hurt you.”

His mood lifted for a moment and he stepped back, pulling the bracelet he'd made out of his pocket. “I made this for you. I… uh… hope you like it.”

Henry smiled brightly, and allowed Gordon to fasten it around his right wrist. It was touching, that Gordon had gone to the trouble… and it gave him something else to focus on.

They stood together for a moment, before Henry slipped out of Gordon's reach and headed back towards the school. Gordon watched him leave, and then headed in a different direction.

-

They stopped meeting at the forest, for a time. They only nodded politely to each other in corridors, quietly and impersonally acknowledging each other when they were in proximity. They did their best to pretend that whatever they'd shared was fleeting, and over.

It wasn't.

Henry kept his head down, and he avoided his mother as much as possible. She let him be, and they lived almost independently in the same house.

Gordon withdrew, talking only to Spencer or whichever of his cousins sought his company. They started delivering him Scott's postcards before Nigel could tear them apart or burn them up, making an effort to cheer him up in any way they could. Gordon always seemed marginally happier after reading them, so Spencer started keeping them in a place Nigel could never find. Cana inundated Gordon with music and Bittern with books, but he seemed permanently distracted, never in the present moment.

Both Henry and Gordon desperately wanted to spend time together, but it was never safe enough to attempt a meeting. Eventually, Nigel's attention seemed occupied by something else, and they risked a brief liaison in the library. Spencer, who'd been sent to 'study with Gordon’, patted his cousin on the back and made for the exit. Gordon watched him go with a tired eye.

Upon seeing Henry, who was still wearing the bracelet, Gordon couldn't help himself. He pulled Henry into a one-armed hug, mindful of his injured hand. Henry leaned into the touch, smiling.

“You missed me a lot, huh?”

Gordon scoffed at the thought he would have done anything else, but his face quickly softened with a smile. “Yeah, I did. A lot.”

Henry brought his right hand up to cup Gordon's cheek gently, leaning close enough to kiss. Gordon was frozen with a blush on his cheeks, and he dimly wondered what might happen if he leaned forward.

“Thanks, Gordon. It means a lot.” Henry was blushing too, and his hand fled into a pocket. He glanced away, and shook a shy smile from his face. “I know we have a lot on our plates right now, so let's just study for Maths.”

Gordon was speechless for a moment, but nodded slowly. “Okay.”

They buried themselves in quadratic formulae and graphed polynomials, whiling the study period away. When Gordon stood to leave, Henry slid him his number on a post-it.

Edward watched the exchange with a sinking feeling in his gut. He turned back to the study group he was attending, and lost himself in James’ mundane chatter about a designer he was researching.

“I hope Henry knows what he's doing,” Edward muttered to himself as James prattled on. “This is going to end in tears, I can tell.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life is tangled. Life is complicated. But it's usually worth the hassle at the end.


	5. Complicated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Henry meets Gordon's father, the plot thickens some more, and the others start to see the story.  
Song for this chapter: The Less I Know The Better (Tame Impala)

When Henry got back, there was an unfamiliar car waiting outside his house. A strangely familiar figure was leaving the house.

“As I said, I am glad you are cooperative in this endeavour. I hope I was not any trouble?”

Nigel Gresley turned away from Henry's mother, and Henry came face to face with a nightmare.

He projected an air of superiority, and he glanced down at Henry like he was nothing more than a bug. His mouth curved into a cruel smile, and he held out one hand.

“Ah. Henry, was it? I'm Gordon's father.”

Henry was trembling, but he managed the strength to take Gresley's hand and shake it. Gresley used it to pull Henry closer, and his hand closed around Henry's left wrist like a bear trap.

“You had better stay away from my son, you  _ filthy mongrel _ .” Gresley whispered in Henry's ear. “Else, you'll find a  _ burning _ desire to keep your mouth shut.”

Henry froze, barely managing to keep the fear off his face. One look at Gresley, and he knew it still showed in his eyes.

Gordon's father turned to leave, and Henry slowly lumbered inside. He set his backpack down beside his bedroom door, and curled up against it. A quiet breath, then the tears came spilling down his cheeks.

Downstairs, his mother poured herself a cup of tea and lit up a cigarette.

-

Gordon sent Henry a text later that night.

“Hey, Henry :) How are U?”

Henry sniffled weakly, having cried himself out hours ago, and typed out a slow reply.

“I'm fine, Gordon.”

Gordon was surprised by the seemingly cold response. He'd expected Henry to be a little more cheery, based on earlier. Was something wrong?

“You ok Henry?”

Henry bit his lip with worry. He had to lie about the visit, but what could he tell Gordon? 

“...Just tired.”

Gordon raised an eyebrow, but didn't call Henry's bluff.

“I'll let you sleep. GN Henry :)”

“Goodnight, Gordon.”

Henry slipped into a dreamless sleep that left him feeling exhausted in the morning. Gordon didn't sleep, staring at the ceiling and wondering whether the sudden distance was a chasm he couldn't cross.

-

The town was quickly buzzing with gossip. Nigel Gresley had been seen talking to that Stanier woman, was there a hidden truth about Henry that he was trying to crush? Or were there plans to maybe marry off a niece, unite the families?

Henry was forced to acknowledge the mess when he got to his locker, because was pretty hard to ignore the words ‘Stanier Slut’ in permanent marker on the door. He sighed, making a mental note to buy some spray paint to repaint it over the weekend.

Gordon saw, and informed the track team about it. Most of them were genuinely concerned, but Alfred and Crovan had been snickering the whole time.

“Alfred, Crovan. Care to enlighten me as to why you're so amused?”

Crovan snickered, and Alfred smirked. “Oh, just amused you care about the little Stanier slut so much. People talk, you know.”

“Yeah,” Crovan added. “And you seem pretty chummy with him. Anything you wanna say?”

Gordon had to strangle the urge to slap the both of them, and growled. “It's defacing school property, and if anyone had reported you we'd be missing some of our best runners. Don't let it happen again.”

As he turned to warm up for the meet, Crovan turned to Alfred with a tiny frown.

“You don't think he actually  _ cares _ for Henry, do you?”

Alfred grinned as he remembered the photos he'd taken in the forest for Nigel Gresley. Valuable blackmail, they were his ticket to the high life. And he was gonna milk them for all they were worth.

“Oh, I don't know. Probably not.”

-

Henry watched Gordon from the window of the library, where Spencer was revising for calculus with his sister Cana and a couple of her classmates. He looked over at Henry, only to jump as one of their study-mates spoke up. 

“It's tragic, isn't it?” James whispered.

Spencer blinked, looking at James and back to Henry. He looked incredibly sad, staring out the window… with a perfect view of the oval and running track. Where Gordon was currently training with the track team.

A lot of things were falling into place, and Spencer's heart was plummeting alongside them.

He fixed his eyes on James and his brow furrowed. “Talk. Now.”

James glanced over at Edward, who was shaking his head furiously. James jerked his head at Spencer, and they seemed to have a silent conversation before James turned back to Spencer and Cana.

“The rumours about your uncle are true, he did go to Henry's house. Apparently, he was just there to talk to Henry's mom, and was leaving when Henry got back. But he threatened Henry, called him a  _ filthy mongrel _ , told him to stay away from Gordon. Henry's been moping every since.”

Spencer grimaced. “The timing lines up with Gordon's mood too… There'll be hell to pay if Gresley finds out.”

The four returned to their studies, each mulling it over in their heads. There were no easy answers, and unbeknownst to them the nooses were already tightening.


	6. Sunsets & Surprises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A birthday, a hint and the death of a perfectly good painting.  
Chap song: Dream Sweet In Sea Major (Miracle Musical)

Henry's birthday was a quiet affair, a late spring event with very few guests. Ordinarily Henry wouldn't even have had a party, but James was insistent.

“Come on! It'll be fun, we'll just invite your close friends, grab some cake, head out to the forest… does that sound good?”

Henry looked to Edward for help, but Edward only flashed him an apologetic smile. “You have been a bit mopey recently…” 

Edward giggled at Henry's betrayed pout.

They'd gotten Spencer's help to pull it off without a hitch, in exchange for Cana and Bittern also attending. They brought a supermarket cake and fairy lights to the forest, making sure they wouldn't be missed overnight.

Given most of them were now over eighteen, with the exception of birthday boy Henry (though James protested heavily that he only had another two months left, so it wouldn’t matter) it was frankly a miracle the alcohol hadn't come out sooner. When the smuggled bottles of wine went around, it was James who'd suggested the dancing and music. In the middle of the forest, he'd pulled Edward to his feet and spun him around in the evening sun.

“Come on, Eddie! Dance with me!” He promptly danced into a tree, and Edward guided him off to one side to soothe his wounded pride.

Gordon chuckled and glanced over at Henry, taking in the orange glow cast over his face. Henry met his eyes, and gave a coy smile. 

“So… Would you dance with  _ me _ ?”

“Of course, Henry. I would love to.”

Gordon grinned, pulling Henry up as another song came on. It rang like an old vinyl record, static eating quietly at the edges, and as Henry rested his head on Gordon's shoulder it was all the Gresley could hear.

In that moment, lit by the sunset and strings of fairy lights, his alcohol fueled courage told him to make his move.

“Hey, Henry. Can ask you something?”

“Go ahead, Gordon.”

“If… If we could get away from here, if we didn't have to worry about anything else… Do you think…”

Henry giggled at the frustration swirling behind Gordon’s blue eyes, and decided to just put his struggling partner out of his misery.

“Yes. Yes I would.”

Gordon froze for a second, looking down at Henry. “...I didn't even finish my sentence.”

Henry looked up at Gordon with amusement sparkling in his emerald eyes, and brought his hand up to Gordon's cheek. “I know what you meant. Yes, I would.”

Gordon pulled Henry close, taking in the scent of pine and the fabric softener Henry used, and wondered if it was too soon to kiss his partner. A moment later, Henry's lips met his own and he closed his eyes.

“Happy eighteenth birthday, Henry.”

“Thank you, Gordon.”

-

That evening, Henry collapsed tiredly onto his bed with a smile still tugging at his lips. For once, he'd had a pleasant birthday.

His dreams were odd that night. A mess of sheets and sunshine that smelled like Gordon, and a sad grin that soothed something inside him that he'd never noticed hurt. A sensation of nausea, like reeling from a punch. A blurry, faded image of Gordon with tears in his eyes, his father's hand gripping his shoulder like a vice as he was manhandled into Nigel Gresley's car.

He woke, disturbed, but managed to go back to sleep. Come morning, all he'd remember was a vague sense of dread.

-

Elsewhere, Spencer hid the small metal box of pictures he'd managed to save from Nigel's wrath. A new photo of Gordon and Henry in a tender embrace, haloed in the setting sun's light, sat meekly in the tin with the postcards from Scott. A stolen moment, tucked safely away.

Beneath the layers of photos was an old invoice, snatched from a bag of paper to be shredded. It was for vermin extermination, with 'one car' listed as the number of rooms.

-

Exams passed like a hurricane, cacophonous and frenzied despite its short timeframe. Henry and Gordon were less and less able to meet, and it was straining their relationship. Even texting seemed risky, dangerous.

At home, things were bad. North had decided to stay at University for the upcoming holidays, and their father was having kittens over it. Spencer and Cana could barely keep him civil, Bittern was taking Gordon's example and simply disappearing for most of the day.

Henry threw himself into the little things, sneaking kisses from Gordon in the library and behind the bleachers, muddling through as best he could, while Edward and James kept him from burning himself out.

All too soon, it was over. The town waited with bated breath, and it was calm.

They should have known it wouldn't last.

-

Henry was counting down the days ‘til graduation. It was still a few months, but he'd thankfully done most of his exams in advance. Now there was only his Visual Arts major work to submit, and that was basically finished.

As he entered the art rooms, savouring their customary paint fumes, he noticed one glaring problem.

His canvas was missing. His pride and joy, the forest that had become his second home depicted through the seasons, was gone.

Henry struggled to think through the panic rising in his gut. He practically turned the studio inside out, and still it could not be found.

A small note was sitting where his art had been before, and it lacked a signature. As he read it, Henry could practically hear his dreams shattering.

“Henry Stanier,

Your work has already received a mark. As it was not deemed of sufficient quality to compete in any competitions, it has been sold off to a private buyer. Please contact Nigel Gresley (Snr) at 0409 626 122 to arrange payment.”

He tucked away the note with shaking hands, and sat weakly beside the empty easel. He sat there for a long time.

-

When Gordon got home, Spencer grabbed his arm before he could enter the living room.

“Gordon, don't. He's in a mood, you'll get flayed alive.”

Gordon met Spencer's gaze, and sighed. He glanced back at the door, and his steps took him upstairs to safety. He laid down on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, wondering if he'd done the right thing.

The next morning, Gordon snuck into the living room before anyone else was awake. His eyes widened at the sight.

Henry's treasured canvas, completely obliterated. Parts of wood frame scattered across the floor, twisted canvas strips like a circus tent over them, oil paint in flakes settled like dust over the scene. An empty decanter of wine on the side table provided all the context he needed.

Gordon turned to go, smacking right into his father's imposing figure.

Nigel sighed, and Gordon was led back to one of the couches like a child after a nightmare. If only he'd done this after fighting with mom when Gordon was little, shown a bit of care for his son, then Gordon might not still flinch every time his father spoke too loudly.

“So, my son, what brings you down here so early? Is there something you wanted to say?”

And God did that make Gordon feel angry. 'My son’ his ass, his father had never cared for Gordon. No, Gordon was only the backup after Scott hadn't turned out satisfactorily. After all, a  _ gay actor _ certainly couldn't participate in the family business. Frankly, Gordon had seen this coming. Scott was a theatre kid at heart, not a frigid CEO type. But, back to the main issue...

“I heard you bought a new painting. I thought it might be here.”

His father nodded. “Ah yes, one by that Stanier boy. A horrible tragedy, that. I was having it put on the wall,” he gestured to a single nail on the wall that could never have held such a large canvas on its own, “and the stepladder overbalanced. Unfortunately, the mover fell onto the canvas and… well, it didn't survive.”

He noticed Gordon's horrified expression and patted him consolingly on the back. “Do not worry, he will still be paid for his art. It's just a tragedy such a thing happened.”

Nigel's next words were “Ah well, I don't suppose he really cares.”

They cut Gordon to his core.


	7. Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sinking fast, decisions have to be made. Problem is, when you jump ship...  
Not everyone makes it out.  
Songs for this chapter: MR FEAR(SIAMÉS) + A Sadness Runs Through Him (The Hoosiers)

Gordon tried to prevent Henry from hearing about what had happened to his art, but the news had gotten out anyway.

He found Alfred taunting Henry outside the gym.

“Poor little HenHen! Your canvas got crushed, you know? Shards  _ everywhere _ , what a mess! Such a shame, you did care  _ so very much about it _ .”

Henry's eyes welled up with tears, and Gordon saw red. He shoved Alfred away, a hard glare on his face.

“Leave him alone, Alfred!”

Alfred simply grinned, spat at Henry's feet and left. As soon as Alfred's back was turned, he pulled Henry into a hug.

"Shh, shhh. It's okay, you need to stay calm."

Henry stayed silent, burying his face in Gordon's shirt. Gordon's eyes were aflame with anger even as he patted Henry's back comfortingly.

-

Crovan had taken a photo of the pair as Alfred had instructed, and it was soon in Nigel Gresley's hands. Bittern flinched at the murderous expression on his face, and Spencer's heart pounded in fear. 

"So. Another of my sons has failed me. Unfortunate, but unsurprising. He was close to my… other disappointment." Nigel's tone of voice was cold and venomous. "I will deal with this personally. I will not have another disgrace to our name."

As Nigel stalked from the room, Spencer sent a text with trembling hands.

"G, he's coming. Run."

-

Gordon's phone buzzed, and he read the message with a growing sense of powerlessness. Henry glanced over in concern.

"Gordon? Are you alright?"

Gordon shook his head, and grabbed Henry's hand. "Do you trust me?" He asked desperately. Henry realised Gordon wasn't joking, and the dread that had shadowed him since the dream came on in full force.

Forcing down the shudders, he nodded.

"I trust you."

Gordon grinned weakly, and took off running with Henry in tow. He didn't have much time.

-

Gordon had gone back to the house to grab something, telling Henry to fill a duffel bag with anything he couldn't leave behind. Henry, bewildered, followed Gordon's instructions and finished just as Gordon arrived back at his house.

"Gordon, what's this all about?"

"I… it's my father. I have to get you out of here, or he'll kill you."

Henry blinked, but before he could say anything Gordon cut in.

"Please, I can't let you be another Truro."

Truro… as in Truro West, the senior who'd died in a car crash a few years ago? Gordon was deadly serious, and Henry nodded quickly.

"Okay. Let's go."

They dashed from the house a few minutes before Nigel arrived. Making a beeline for the bus terminal, Gordon prayed they wouldn't be too late.

-

Nigel was furious as he searched the Stanier house. His son was being very… troublesome. He would need to make arrangements. Perhaps an old friend of his could help him fix Gordon. Yes, that seemed a good course of action. With Dr Beeching's help, he could drum all that deviant behaviour out of his son.

Spencer, Cana and Bittern sat in the living room. They sat in silence, not daring to meet each other's eyes.

"Do you think he'll be okay?" Cana piped up tentatively.

Spencer closed his eyes, and Bittern pulled her knees to her chest as he spoke. "For both their sakes, I hope Henry makes it."

-

As they got to the bus terminal, Gordon shoved the wad of cash he'd grabbed into Henry's hands. Henry's eyes widened at the amount, but Gordon didn't let him get a word in.

"Head for the city, you should be able to find Scott quite easily. Tell him I sent you. If he doesn't believe you, tell him that Truro's favourite colour was verdant green-"

"Gordon! What… aren't you coming too?"

Gordon chuckled weakly. "I'm sorry, Henry. I can only save one of us, and I'm not letting him hurt you."

Henry felt numb as Gordon bought the bus ticket, reeling from the suddenness and the feeling of freefall. He mechanically gathered up his things, and was ready to get on the bus.

A squeal of tires heralded the arrival of Nigel Gresley. Gordon hurried Henry to the steps of the bus as his father stormed over.

"Henry, I'm sorry. Please, forgive me." Gordon pulled his love into a fiery kiss that would have made Henry melt if he hadn't been shaking with adrenaline and fear. They separated with Nigel a few metres away, and Gordon wrestled with his father long enough for the bus doors to close. As it pulled away, Henry glanced back to see Gordon being forced into Nigel's car, crying quietly.

He settled guiltily into his seat, and curled up. He missed Gordon already.


	8. Intermission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time rolls on, and life changes a little as it goes on.  
Songs for this chapter: Escapism (Steven Universe) + False Confidence (Noah Kahan)

The scandal of Gordon's actions was the subject of gossip for the whole town. Alfred and Crovan became Nigel's cronies, and the small town wondered how a boy from such an upstanding family could fall so far.

Gordon was forced to pack clothes once they got home, and Spencer watched with a ball of fear in his chest. When Gordon didn't come back for a few weeks, he started losing hope.

-

When Gordon came back, everything was different. Gordon was subdued, responding to questions with short and clipped sentences. Within a few weeks of graduating, Gordon was engaged to the daughter of a businessman whom his father was currying favour with.

Spencer watched his cousin marry a woman he didn't love, the mask on Gordon's face never faltering.

He shuddered to think what they'd done to Gordon to make him that way.

-

Eleven years later, and Henry had made a home for himself. Scott's recommendation had landed him a stable job, and a small flat in the city. He hadn't gone back, and no-one had ever tried to get him back. That only made him worry for the few people he'd cared about, and he had to force himself to stay away.

The guilt never faded.

-

Gordon was quiet as he lay in the bed of his opulent home, dimly aware of the cold absence of his 'wife'.

Vanessa was a nice woman, but it had been painfully obvious even before they were married that he didn't love her. She had certainly tried, especially in the early days, to make him love her. Her attempts at seduction had fallen on deaf ears, and her romantic advances had gone unanswered.

It was a wonder that she hadn't started cheating earlier.

Gordon had been mildly surprised to walk in five years into their marriage and find Vanessa with someone else, but he hadn't honestly cared that much. When the two had tried to make apologies afterwards, Gordon simply handed them enough for a hotel room and asked them to be more careful next time. After that, Vanessa hadn't been as irritable around Gordon. Maybe she'd just been frustrated.

At any rate, Gordon hadn't ever actually been with Vanessa. Therefore, he was more surprised than anyone else when Vanessa announced she was pregnant.

She'd had two children, Thomas and Percy. Thomas could have passed for one of Gordon's blood, but Percy was obviously not. He'd been expected to reject Percy and possibly divorce Vanessa, but Gordon found he couldn't. Percy, though not his, would still be raised as his child. Gordon owed it to Thomas and Percy to be better than his father. It surprised him how protective he was, but he'd grown used to it over time. He would love the two, as he should. As he had wished of his father as a child.

The two boys shared a bedroom downstairs. Being five years old, they were balls of boundless energy until about 8:00 pm at which point they promptly fell asleep. Gordon couldn't hear them squealing or chattering, so they were probably sleeping.

His thoughts turned to his schedule, and he groaned mentally. Another boring expo full of stuffy people with their noses in the air, never with anything interesting to say. Why the devil did  _ he _ always get sent to these? Why not North, who seemed to take pleasure in the soul-sucking minutiae of the business? Why not the favoured child, not the backup that was only good if he stayed out of trouble? It infuriated him, a dull ache in his mind.

At any rate, it meant he’d be out of town for a few days. He made a note to call Edward to look after Thomas and Percy while he was gone. Maybe this time Crovan would actually let Edward park outside the house without harassing him. Gordon didn’t hold much hope.

He turned over in bed, closing his eyes and pulling a pillow close.


	9. More Questions than Answers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A chance meeting, a bit of reconnection and some Nigel-mocking.  
Song for this chapter: I’m Okay (Little Big) + Oh My Dear Lord (The Unlikely Candidates)

By evening, Gordon was utterly exhausted. He wandered out of the hotel, still wearing his extraordinarily uncomfortable suit and Oxfords, and let his feet take him to the nearest bar. The expo didn’t open again until lunchtime tomorrow, so he’d have time to sleep off a hangover. He found himself two streets away, craning his neck up to read the sign.

“The Pine Tree… huh. Seems nice enough.”

The small bar was homey, a tasteful mix of dark pinewood and maroon walls toned amber by the lamps that adorned the walls. It was inviting, and as Gordon pushed open the door a slight scent of vanilla and cinnamon drifted out. The regulars snuck curious glances at him over their drinks, and the woman behind the bar set down the glass she was cleaning.

“Are you looking for someone, or you want a drink?”

Gordon blinked. “Uh, just an Old Fashioned I guess.”

She nodded, turning to the wall of bottles behind her as the regulars went back to their drinks. Gordon settled onto a barstool as the drink was set down gently before him, and turned over a few $50 notes. She left the change next to his drink, and Gordon didn’t bother putting it away. She then tapped the bar in front of him gently to get his attention.

“You look tired. Long day?”

Gordon groaned, taking a sip of his drink. “Like you wouldn’t believe. You’d think years of dealing with idiots would have given me some resistance, but every day someone manages a new level of stupid.”

She nodded in agreement, stifling a smile. “Ah, well. Enjoy your whiskey, mate.”

Gordon lost track of time as he nursed his drinks, having switched to neat whiskey at some point during the night. He noticed the bartender moving to the back, talking to someone.

“Look, I’m just gonna head to the bathroom. Can you mind the bar for a bit?”

“Sure, Emily. Just don’t get me stuck when Donald and Douglas turn up. They’re working late tonight, and I don’t particularly want to hear a debate on the merits of scotch.”

Emily laughed, and headed off. The new barkeep started tidying up, and something about him just felt incredibly familiar to Gordon. He shook his head to clear his thoughts and went back to his drink.

“You’ve got enough for the rest of the bottle, do you want it neat or on the rocks?”

Gordon glanced up to see the barkeep holding the bottle, but what grabbed his attention was the bracelet on their right wrist. A bracelet he’d made years ago, that he never expected to see again.

He looked up, a similarly shocked expression gracing the barkeep’s face.

“Henry!?”

-

Henry nearly dropped the bottle as he recognised Gordon. He hadn’t really changed in the decade or so since Henry had fled their little town, and the only thing Henry could really say was different was his eyes. They were a little more gray than he remembered, no longer the royal blue they shone in high school. As he considered the steel tone they’d taken on, he set the bottle absently to the side.

“What happened to you? After you put me on that bus.”

Gordon stiffened. He hadn’t expected the question, and it sent him back to the dark haze of pain and fear that served as the summer they’d graduated. What Nigel had done held no name in his mind, only a fog of misery and distress that made him wince and take another sip of whiskey.

“I… I got sent somewhere, somewhere that Nigel said would… fix me. I don’t really remember it, but if I ever figure out where it was, I’ll raze it to the ground. After that… I got married.”

The bar was silent, not that Henry and Gordon had noticed. Everyone was listening, hanging on every word.

“So, you have a wife now?”

Gordon snorted. “Not so much a wife as a similarly unwilling partner. I’m honestly surprised it took her five years to start seeing other people. You’d think she’d have gotten the message after a year or two.”

Henry sighed. “You’re more jaded now, for sure. You were never this cynical senior year.”

“Oh I was, I just toned it down for everyone’s sakes. But working a job you hate and knowing that your only active parent forced their expectations down your throat takes a toll.”

He took another sip of whiskey, savouring the burn as it focused him on the storytelling and not on the emotions swirling through his mind.

“She gave me Thomas and Percy though, and for that I will always be grateful.”

At Henry’s surprised expression, Gordon couldn’t stifle a chuckle. He pulled out a photo as he spoke. 

“They’re not mine, obviously, though I love them dearly. Thomas is a troublemaker with a knack for being cheeky, and Percy is a little angel most of the time. They’re the best.”

Henry smiled ruefully. “Seems you got on pretty fine without me.”

Gordon’s glass clacked loudly against the bartop.

“Bullshit. The only reason I survived at first was the fact that I knew you were safe. True, I have Thomas and Percy, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t miss you all the time.”

Blue eyes met green, and Gordon sighed. 

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to cause a scene... I’ll just go.”

Henry caught Gordon’s hand before he could stand. “No! That’s… that’s not what I meant by that. I just… you seemed okay. I was glad that I hadn’t ruined everything.”

Gordon paused for a moment, then settled back onto the stool. “You didn’t. Nigel did.”

They were silent for a second, before Gordon started giggling. Henry shot him a look.

“I’m cutting you off, you’ve had enough for the night.” He declared jokingly. Gordon snorted, then took a breath to ease the giggling.

“I just… just realised that despite how hard Nigel tried to keep us apart, he ended up sending us back into each other’s circles. I mean, I’m in the city working for his company. He mucked up all the work he put in by making me join the business.”

Henry grinned. "He does seem to have a penchant for that, huh? Being a royal pain in the rear."

Gordon mirrored his expression. "For all I know, he's got a king's sceptre up his arse!"

They shared a chuckle at the image, only to realise they'd been eavesdropped on by most of the bar as it exploded into raucous laughter.

Henry sighed fondly, before rapping the bar loudly enough to get their attention. 

"Alright everyone, settle down. Otherwise I'll start calling tabs."

He paused, and then glared at a particular patron by the jukebox. "Oliver, you put one more 'What's New, Pussycat' in that jukebox and you'll be paying off the property damage for the brawl."

Oliver, looking guilty, snuck a suspiciously large bag of coins back into his pocket.

Henry saw Gordon to the door, and before he could leave Henry pulled him into a kiss that left the lingering taste of whiskey on their lips.

"Come back soon, alright?"

Gordon grinned, squeezing Henry's hand reassuringly. 

"I will. I promise."

It was only later that Henry found Gordon's number, written on a napkin and slipped into his pocket.


	10. A New Problem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gordon meets someone he hadn't seen in ages, and a decision needs to be made.  
Songs for this chapter: Dissolve (Absofacto) + I Feel Like I’m Drowning (Two Feet)

Each time Gordon was in the city, he'd go back to Henry at The Pine Tree. They'd sit at a booth in the corner, or Gordon would sit at the bar while Henry took orders and mixed drinks. Henry heard about everything that happened: how Edward and James were doing, whether they'd gotten together or were still dodging the question, whatever new mischief Thomas and Percy had created. 

It always left Henry with a new spring in his step, and Gordon was always happier when he came back from business trips.

Neither of them had expected Scott to turn up at the bar with an unfamiliar woman in tow.

Henry had been busy with Duck's order, a horrendously complicated version of a Long Island iced tea, when Scott walked in. Henry had almost mistaken him for Gordon.

"Gor- uh, Scott! What brings you here? Celebrity life too hectic?"

Scott smiled, and shook his head. "Just looking for my brother, is he in town right now?"

Henry checked his phone, then smiled.

"Yeah, he's just running a bit late by the sound of it. Just have a seat at the bar."

They sat, and Gordon walked in shortly after. He leant across the bar to peck Henry on the cheek, then sat down at the bar beside Scott and the woman. It took him a moment to register that his brother was sitting next to him.

“Scott! What brings you here?”

Scott grinned. “What, I can’t come in and check on my little brother?”

Gordon huffed in annoyance. “We’re the same height now, and you just send postcards.”

“...Not that you’d ever visit with  _ him _ around…” He mumbled under his breath.

“Fair enough. Anyway, I wanted you to meet someone. I don’t know if you remember her, but she wanted to see you again.”

Gordon blinked as the woman next to Scott turned to face him, and smiled tiredly.

“Hello Gordon… my son.”

-

Henry had directed the three to a booth in a slightly more private section of the room, and called Emily from the backroom to take over on the bar.

Henry had settled next to Gordon, who was still struggling to comprehend that the woman sitting next to Scott was their mother.

“So, how have you been?" Gordon asked awkwardly. He was obviously uncomfortable, but Henry didn't blame him. If his mother had turned up here with one of his step-siblings, he probably would have cussed her out before all his patrons.

Gordon's mother nodded slightly.

"As well as can be expected, I suppose. I've been living a few cities over, event planning for the executives and such. Having been dragged along to so many galas with Nigel, I know how such gatherings run."

Gordon suppressed a flinch at his father's name, and Henry squeezed his hand supportively. His mother noticed too, and winced.

"...I'm sorry. I still refer to him that way, sometimes. I… did love him, back then."

Gordon shifted in his seat, unable to meet her eyes. It was another reminder of how little value he held to the man who raised him.

Scott took a sip of water, watching the others at the table. He didn't miss how tense Gordon seemed, how he leant slightly against Henry as if seeking comfort.

The atmosphere simmered, almost cold despite the cozy warmth of the room. 

Scott took another sip.

"Why did you leave?" Gordon questioned, a hint of iron in his words. "Why did you leave us behind?"

She cringed, and folded her hands in her lap. "I had no choice. He… he insisted that if we had any children, that he'd raise them. That he'd have custody. He wrote it into our prenup without my knowledge, and I only found out when I tried to leave."

-

She remembered that night. The cruel light in Nigel's eyes. The sharpness of his smile as he blocked the corridor leading into the house, to her boys.

'You won't be taking them with you, Selene.'

'What do you mean, Nigel? They're my boys!'

He'd sneered at her, and her stomach dropped.

'Not anymore.'

With two small words and an extra clause in a contract, Selene Gresley  _ nee _ Laurence lost the three people she'd held most dear.

And she couldn't even say goodbye.

-

Gordon's mother shook her head to clear the thoughts, then cleared her throat.

"I wanted to take you with me. Wanted to get you away from him, anything. But there was nothing I could do."

Gordon let out a shuddery sigh, his grip on Henry’s hand tightening enough to make Henry wince.

“So what do you want now, mum?”

Everyone at the table  looked up at Gordon in shock. Scott’s mouth hung open, Selene’s eyes watered, and Henry’s breath caught in his chest. Gordon just looked tired.

“Because I’m not sure I can do this right now. Welcome you back, yes. Have you as a part of my life again, yes. But forgive you for leaving us behind with  _ him _ , even if you had no choice?”

He pulled her hand close, looking her in the eyes. 

“I need time, mum.”

For a moment, Selene was silent.

“O-of course, Gordon… As much time as you need.”

Gordon gave her a tiny, bitter smile, and walked out the door.

\- 

Edward had been looking after Thomas and Percy, and was awake when Gordon got home the next morning. He watched Gordon pick a bottle from the cabinet, sit down on the couch, and take a swig.

He settled onto the other couch, sipping his tea. "Well? What's got you nursing a bottle?"

Gordon sighed, shoulders slumping. "My mum. I… Scott brought her to The Pine Tree and I didn't take it very well."

Edward nodded understandingly, and silence reigned for a moment.

“What are you going to do?

Gordon picked absently at a stray thread on his jacket.

“I… honestly don’t know.”


	11. Returned and Reconciled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henry gets ghosted, and Gordon has a lot to make up for.  
Songs for this chapter: Beggin(Madcon) + Girls Like Me(Will Joseph Cook)

Gordon didn't come back for a while, and Henry was getting a little worried. He'd taken to spending the vast majority of his time at the Pine Tree, hoping to catch even a glance of Gordon.

Even his texts had gone mostly unread, Gordon offering only brief messages when he did reply. 

He snuck another glance at his phone, sighing at the empty screen. Still nothing.

Henry went back to his work, blinking tears from his eyes.

-

On a quiet Thursday night, Henry’s phone buzzed briefly with a notification. He let out a sharp breath at the sender, and quickly opened his messages.

“Henry, r u free Friday?”

“Yep, do you wanna meet up?”

Gordon sent a time, and Henry was left hoping for a miracle. 

-

The next day found Henry standing in front of a mirror, fussing with his outfit. Gordon hadn't specified fancy or casual, and he wasn't sure whether to dress down or dress up.

He hung another green dress shirt in the closet with a sigh. "It's times like this that I miss James. He would've known exactly what to wear."

After much deliberation, he settled on a green business shirt and dress pants. He grabbed his wallet, keys and phone, then dashed out the door.

-

Gordon met him at the door of The Pine Tree, looking a little ruffled. He was wearing a similar outfit to Henry, but his unironed blue shirt and messy hair gave him a stressed out look. Upon seeing Henry, he gave a bright grin.

"You look nice this evening."

Henry blushed lightly, pulling Gordon into a hug. "Thank you." He paused as Gordon took his arm, leading him along the street.

"It's good to see you again. I got a little worried when you didn't turn up for weeks."

Gordon grimaced slightly, flushed from embarrassment. "I… uh… had some stuff I had to work through." His grip tightened a little on Henry's arm. "I'm sorry for worrying you."

They ended up in a small restaurant at the edge of the business district, tucked out of sight in a corner of the room.

"Thank you for taking me to dinner, Gordon."

Gordon flashed Henry a grin. "It's nothing. What do you want to eat?"

They ordered, and Henry noticed Gordon buy a bottle off the wine list. Running a bar gave you a bit of insight into people's alcohol habits, and people usually didn't buy the bottle for less than 3 people, unless they were planning to get smashed. Gordon got through his first glass before their food arrived.

They ate their food, Gordon finishing the rest of the wine, and then took to wandering around the streets together. 

"Hey, Henry? Would… would you be okay if we just went somewhere and talked?"

Henry glanced over. Gordon wouldn't meet his eyes, an alcohol-induced blush on his cheeks.

"...Sure."

Gordon took him back to the hotel, to his room and out onto the balcony that overlooked the city.

-

Gordon took a seat on the lounge, eyes darting around anxiously. Henry settled beside him, and they shared a moment of quiet.

"... I'm sorry for dragging you all the way up here. I'm sure you have better things to do on a Friday night."

Henry shrugged. "Just another night at the bar."

Another silence fell between them, a little strained.

"I missed you." Gordon murmured.

Henry said nothing, staring up at the stars.

"I wanted to come back, but… I got worried. Worried that… that you would think I was a terrible person for what happened with my mum, or that you were angry at me for not being in contact. For disappearing. A-and nothing I wrote or put down said it properly." 

Henry snuck a look at Gordon's face. He was staring up at the stars, tears pooling at the corners of his eyes. Rather like how he'd felt worrying about Gordon for the past few months.

"I know that's an excuse, and that it's not good enough, but… that's the only way I can explain myself. I… are you mad at me?" He asked.

As Gordon turned his gaze from the stars to his friend, Henry sighed, and stood. 

"I… I need time, Gordon. You… you can't just disappear and expect everything to go back to the way it was.

Gordon watched him leave, and felt a little more alone.

-

They met occasionally at the Pine Tree, or ran into each other at restaurants. Henry rarely spared Gordon more than a glance or a curt word, and it showed on Gordon's face how much he was hurt by the cold treatment. 

Emily cornered Henry in the breakroom one evening. 

"Henry, you can't keep doing this."

Henry scoffed. "Doing what, Emily? I'm only showing him the other end of the stick."

"Yes, but it's hurting both of you. You have a shorter fuse than Duck most days, and Gordon looks like a kicked puppy every time you talk to him. Either make this relationship unquestionably dead, or take him back."

Henry glanced back into the main area, where Gordon sat with his head in his hands. Gordon's body shook slightly, and Henry knew he was crying. Emily patted Henry's hand.

"He's suffered enough."

-

When Henry finally sat Gordon down at a small corner booth in the Pine Tree, Gordon was practically shaking from nerves. A tense silence hung between them.

"I am."

Gordon blinked at Henry's abrupt statement.

"I am angry. I'm angry, and disappointed, and sad. You walked out that night, and I didn't see you for a little over a month. I'm pissed as hell that you thought I'd be okay with that!"

Gordon flinched, but nodded. No matter how hard this was to hear, he knew he deserved it.

"...I am mad. Without you... it gets lonely. I understand your unwillingness to come back, but I would've appreciated a proper explanation."

Gordon's face crumpled, and he looked away. Henry scooted over to lean against him, tracing idle patterns on the fabric seats.

"But, I missed you too. And I'm glad you're back. Next time… please don't just leave, Gordon."

Gordon slowly snaked an arm around Henry, holding him a little closer. They sat, enjoying each other's company, until Gordon broke the comfortable silence.

"...Do you want to go somewhere a bit more private? I can hear people in a nearby booth chanting 'kiss' repeatedly."

"That's probably a good idea, yeah."

-

Gordon woke slowly the next morning, feeling better than he had in months. The previous night's talk promptly smacked him upside the head, and he buried his face in the pillow he was hugging with a groan.

Henry started chuckling, turned over and pulled him close. "Good morning, Gordon. How are you holding up?"

Well, shit.


	12. Journalists, OFC

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dinner dates, paparazzi and a reveal of Nigel's nature.  
Stock photo of Nigel: https://thumbs.dreamstime.com/z/stern-business-man-grey-high-constrast-24784483.jpg  
Songs: Blood // Water (Grandson) + Run Boy Run (Woodkid)

Henry and Gordon met regularly, and their dinner dates usually ended at Henry's flat. They would sit on the couch, watching trashy movies and generally have a great time. Occasionally, talk would turn to more serious subjects.

“So, did you ever make up with your mother?”

Gordon nodded, slurping the last of his milk tea in a way that would have had any of his sycophantic colleagues staring in horror.

“I saw her last week, and even got North to go see her. I think it went well.”

“How well?” Henry asked curiously as he dug through the cabinets for more snacks.

“North sobbed happily all over my favourite jacket, it was adorable. Selene gave him a little photo from when we were kids, and he blubbered over it so much I was contemplating earplugs.”

He ducked the chip packet aimed at his head, and burst into laughter at Henry’s mildly annoyed pout. Henry was soon laughing as well, and their good mood lasted through the night.

All was well.

At least, until the press caught sight of Gordon leaving Henry's apartment building.

Henry was forced to brave waves of paparazzi, reporters and private investigators. Just going shopping, going to the Pine Tree, doing almost anything outside his apartment was a hassle.

Nigel began watching Gordon carefully. 

-

It wasn't long before the media had created a frenzy. Henry could barely leave his building, and Gordon hadn't been in the city for weeks.

It was as if things had gone back to the way they had been before, but now tinged with the bitter taste of knowing what they couldn't have. Gordon grew snappish, and threw himself into his work. Henry became faded, less vibrant in the face of so much attention.

Nigel called his son into his office one evening, for ‘a little chat’.  
  
Gordon idly wondered if it was normal to flinch at the very thought of one’s parent.

“Come in, son.”

He stepped through the door, eyes fixed upon the floor, and waited patiently. Nigel was silent for a moment, before he spoke. 

“Gordon, you are a Gresley. Look me in the eyes. You are not some common scum, to cower like a dog.”

Gordon was still for a beat, before he looked up. His father’s stern figure was framed by the large office window, just as imposing as he had been when Gordon had been a teenager.

Nigel Gresley, though past his prime, was still a man not to be trifled with. Though his hair was streaked with silver in places, he emanated power. Eyes black as the void stared out of his face, tracking too smoothly over their view. Nigel moved as though space itself should be expected to fling itself from his path: uncaring of anything but success and advancement. His chiding tone warned danger to any stupid enough to ignore him.

Gordon felt fear trickle along his spine, and struggled not to shudder.

“Good. Comport yourself as befitting your position. I tire of reminding you.”

The quiet, deferential reply was almost instinctual. “Yes, sir.” 

Nigel let out a quiet, dismissive sound. Gordon barely managed not to cringe. His father could strip confident executives to the bone in moments, and had no qualms about using his ability on his son.

“I wish to speak with you about some… rumours… that have been circulating recently."

The only outward sign of Gordon’s panic was a blink, before he re-focused on Nigel. In his mind, the red blaring alarms and sirens were screaming.

“Sir?”

Nigel stood, turning to look out the window.“I want you to denounce these rumours. It was… unfortunate, that the Stanier boy should have found you again. The company has no need for scandal.”

Gordon was silent, and that alone had Nigel turning to survey him once again.

“One of your brothers has already proven themselves… unacceptable for the lives I have provided you. See that you do not make the same mistake.”

Gordon couldn’t hold Nigel’s gaze. His father sighed, and rounded the desk to stand before him. Nigel took gentle hold of Gordon’s chin, forcing his head back up. 

“Enough. You will not defy me again, my son.” Nigel’s unspoken threats hung in the air.

Gordon couldn’t remember leaving Nigel’s office, but a sense of all-consuming dread washed over him whenever he so much as glanced in its general direction.

He wasn’t sure whether to be grateful to have survived, or terrified of further ‘chats’.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love comments, and feedback. Feel free to drop a line below! :)


	13. The Day Dawns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The press conference finally occurs, but smooth is not a word to decribe how it goes.   
Confrontations are had, secrets revealed, and the air clears for the first time in years.  
Song for this chapter: Wires (The Neighbourhood) + Wozwald (Miyuu cover)

The press conference Nigel had organised was practically stuffed with reporters. No self-respecting journalist would miss such an important conference, and no gossip rag would dare miss the chance for a scandal relating to a major actor like Scott. Gordon was mildly horrified by the number of people there.   
  
“North… I really don’t want to do this.”   
  
His eldest brother only patted his shoulder apologetically.   
  
“You’ll be alright. These things aren’t that bad.”   
  
Gordon forced down multiple snarky replies before simply nodding.

As he walked into the room, he caught a glimpse of green in the crowd. For a brief moment, he entertained the thought that perhaps Henry was watching, then dismissed it. He couldn’t afford to lose focus right now.

As the conference got underway, Gordon felt boxed in between North and Alfred. On one side, the sibling who followed Nigel’s words to the letter, and the sycophantic nuisance on the other. Neither of them seemed to really care about him at all, and both of them seemed at home here. The thought of Alfred as Nigel’s son instead of him flitted through his mind, before a direct question ripped him from his musings.   
  
“What happened the year you married Vanessa Bulleid, and why did you attend one of Beeching’s camps shortly before this?”   
  
Gordon blinked, surprised by the first half of the question, but the second half caused him to go silent. 

Why was it suddenly so hard to breathe? 

W̖͕̳̪̭ͥ̈́̆̓̽͗h̷̳͈̲̣ͦ̓̀̎ͤ̔o̵̩̬͓̣͓̣ ̟̱̜̫̦͖̻w̾̾a̱͇̜̱̅s̱̙̠̤̰̰̘̓ ̤͈̖̱͕̮͜B̪͖̱̱͊͜e̪̺͚̎́͒̒e̷̦͓̖̹̫̐ͤc̬̮̱̗͓ͥ͘h͓͔͙̜͉͓̓͗̔̏̽i̮ͤ̾n̥͚͔̬ͅg̤͙̟ͨͨ͝?͇̒͒̍ 

His grip on the table tightened, hands shaking minutely.

W̷ͯ͐ͯͧͨͧh͍ͤ̇͊̍ͤy̞ ̨͈̫͇̺̠̳̍͆̓̅͆͌̑c̶̠̦͙̹̩ͅo͉͇̗̯͖u͍̹̰̇ͬ͜l͔̭̲̮̭ͨͮ͑̚ḓ̜̿ͮ͊͐ͫ̅̉ņ̬̓ͤͨ'͓̮͎̪̬̫̞̈́ͯ̈́̚t̀̍́ ͧ̾͂͞h͑ͬ̇e̺͖̬̰͓̤̞̊ ̭̤̞̠͎̫̓̄ͯ͞ŗ̾̽̒͊ͤ̓e͍̻̱̙̟̟ͣ̈́̈ͮͤͬͅm͓̓͊͢ĕ͙̠̘̹͉̣̯̐̑̆ͫm̛b̸̥͙̍̅͑̍͋̑͒e̬͉̝ͩ̌̀̈̑͗ͫr̡̙̐̆͗͛͆͋ ̴̱̼͈̪̪̱̬g̍̄̃̇̚҉͈o͑͒̀́̄ͭ̽͏̣̠̝̥i̲̮̖͇̝̐̑͜ͅn̴̖̤̫̹ͅͅg̺͐ ̮̭̒t̛̫̙̜̟̥ͣ͂ͫ̎̍̍̃o̅̐̃͆ͩ̌ ̧̭͎͚̱̩͌ͭ̎͋a͎̞̬̙̲ͥ͋ͩ͛̅ͤ͟ ̰̜̦͙͓͕͓́̉̒̔͡c̢̤̥ͪ͊̃͗̈̓̔a̰̙̘̬̩̦͍̅͒ͮ̅mͪ͏̭̗̱̪̫͉p͋͒͂̂҉̭̰̤͇̺̥?̗̘̹ͪ̂̑̈́ͣ͠

Why was his vision dimming?

W̢͑̈́҉̦̞h̢̥̼̲͖̯̮͓͉̑̃ͥͦ̂̆ͥ͐a͈̯̬ͫͤ̓͂ͨͪ̚tͨͧͪ̑ͥ͒̚͏͖̤̤̙̥̮̯ ̶͈͍̥͌ͯ̓ͭ̊͆̋w̶̺͈̞̙͆̉ͨ̊̂͐̚a͕̙̮͈͖̣ͫ̈̈ͭ̉̏̈̚s̴̴̜̥͗ ̱̺̺͔ͨͭ̄gͬ̈́͡҉̞͈o̶͕̬̯͍̩ͭͦͪ̉̒̏ͦ͆ī̯͕͖̝ͮ̉̋ͣͪ̂̂͢͠ͅn̩̟͓̍g͊̈́̏̑̎̚͏̜ ̶̞̹̪͙̰̟̾̾͑͜o̶̫͔̩̜̊̄̏ͤ̿̊͠n͔̯̟̖͕̉̌̓?̲̙͈͈̲̗͒͢

North noticed Gordon’s reaction immediately, and tried to discreetly nudge him out of it. One of the reporters, however also noticed. They fell upon his weakness like rabid dogs.

“Mr Gresley! Is there anything to the rumours that it was a conversion camp?”

“Mr Gresley, did your father ever speak of Beeching to you?”

“Mr Gresley, what is your relationship with Henry Stanier?!”   


Gordon couldn’t speak, couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. Something was very, very wrong, but he couldn’t fix it. What had happened to him? What had his father done?

“No further questions!” North practically shouted into the mic before pulling Gordon away from the reporters and out of the room while Alfred ran damage control.

-

Henry watched in horror from his apartment as Gordon was bombarded with questions, and as North dragged him out of the room. He was out the door before the TV had even gone dark, loose papers in the hallway fluttering in his wake.

-

North had pulled Gordon into a small alcove a corridor or two away from the conference, grabbing Gordon’s shoulders and trying to make him stop shaking.

“Gordon, what’s wrong?! Talk to me!”

Gordon let out a whimper and curled tighter into a ball, trying to shake North off. It was hard to breathe, hard to think, why couldn’t he just be left alone!

Nigel was striding down the corridor, thunderously mad.

\- 

Scott, who’d also been watching the conference from his phone, glanced up in shock at the sight of Henry sprinting along the footpath. He shook his head, mounted his motorbike and sped over, swerving to a stop before Henry and tossing him a helmet.

“Get on, and let’s go.”

Henry put on the helmet without complaint and practically jumped on the bike, Scott guiding the bike to cut gracefully through the traffic.

If he noticed Henry’s grip on his shirt becoming damp with sweat, he didn’t say anything.

-

Nigel stood in front of his second most disappointing son after Scott, and sighed.

“What’s wrong with you?”

Gordon curled a little tighter, knuckles white, and whimpered. Nigel had to restrain the urge to laugh at the pitiful display.

“That’s not going to work on me, Gordon. You’re not five anymore.”

North glanced between his father and brother, confusion written across his face.

“Err, father…”

Nigel silenced him with a glare, and North subsided without complaint. Something inside him twisted painfully, and he looked away out the window. 

The quizzical expression returned at the sight of a motorbike speeding, tyres squealing, into the carpark.

-

Henry undid the helmet, dropping it into Scott’s arms as he dashed for the door closest to Gordon, a pair of double doors at the end of the corridor. Just as he reached them, they opened to a figure that stopped Henry’s heart for a moment.

Of all his children, North was the spitting image of a young Nigel; albeit with a markedly more pleasant demeanour. But with the almost suspicious frown on his face, it dredged up the memory of Nigel looming over him, and a shudder passed down Henry's spine.

“Let me pass.”

Nigel shook his head. 

“Give me one good reason. You’re the reason we’re in this mess, aren’t you?”

Henry froze, and his voice went icy.

“I’m the reason you’re in this mess. Is that what you really think?”

Scott caught up just in time for North to pleadingly lock eyes with him. Henry was in the middle of closely examining North, circling like a shark.

“You know, you’re exactly like your father.”

North blinked, unsure whether to take that as a compliment. Henry soon cleared that up with the subtlety of a chainsaw.

“You’re just as much of a cold, heartless bastard.”

He pushed past North, leaving the two brothers to sort themselves out.

Inside, Henry found Gordon curled up with eyes wide and dull, trapped in some old memory that was causing him considerable distress. He dropped to his knees, wrapping his arms around Gordon comfortingly. 

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re not there, it’s a memory. You’re safe, you’re here with me, just…”

He pressed his forehead gently to Gordon’s, willing his partner to stop shaking.

\- 

P̎͏͕̳̰͍̘̬ả͔͌͆͠i̮̍̽̉ͫͭn̝̞̜̳͓̮ͦ͊̽̉ͥ.̿͗͗ͤ̇͆

Ō̘̦̖̦̝̍̀́̈́ͯ͟v̢̦̰̺͑e͆r͖̙̜͉͍̄̃̓̿̚w̘̥̖̳̱̖͂̎̈͂͋͒ͫh͉̟͔̪͔̀̂e̗̺̲̻̤̔̆̋̽ͅl̹̗̣͉̺m͚͑̿̑͆i̮̖ͬͤ̓̄̀̓n̴͔͖̟̩̜̬̽̾ͧ̓̓g̰͎̈́̊͂̄͊̔̚ ̴͓̬ṗ͒͐a̙̫î̸̞̠̬̮̱̺ͬn̢͓̝̲͔̺̤̖ͭ͛̅̾̚.̝͇̭̫̈́ͩ͡

H̘̟͔ͤ́͛̍ͬͬi̖̗ͯ̐͊ͭ̃͐s̾ͫ ͍̖ͯ͗͑h̞͔̲̳̟̎͊̇͗̇͢e̥̱̳̪̞̘̖ͪͦ̓͊̌ͫͯå̮͝d̷̬̈ͦ̆͑̑ ̰̮̺̻͈͓̬͗́̋ͪ̂ͨ͡h̫͇̜̟͂͒̉̔͗̃̚͡ͅu̧̺͍̯͑̉r͓̆̊t̻̥̖͍̫ͯ̂.̳̰̪̯͖̪̾̆͛̇̆̑̽ͅ ̜͔͌ͤ̆̾͜H̒ͧ͡e̼̱̟͗ͮ̚ ̝͇̲͇̼̱̭̿̅ͪ̇̊͐͂c̪̻̙͙͔͆ǫ͉̩̹̻ͣ̾̃̊͐͒u̦̯͖̰͒̎̉ͮͦͤ́͡l̟̻͇͛̍̂ḓ͈͕ͣͤ͒̚n̞̆'͎̟̙̿͗̉̂ͦt̞̠̙͉̭̗̤ͫ̈́̌̃̅͒ͮ ̪̰ͣ͟b̬̺͕̗͟r̴̞̘͔̘͌ͮ̓e̠̱̥͙̻̣͒͋̄ͥͩ̄̓͠ͅa͓̘̗̻͔̍͝ť̶̥͉͉ͯ͛h̩̬̮̯̕ẻ̼ͩͩ̕.̗̜̙̖̬͖ͪ̕ͅ

Suddenly, something had changed.

Warm arms, wrapped loosely around him, and a soothing voice in his ear.

Someone familiar, murmuring to him. Someone to tell him everything was okay.

He wanted to protest. It wasn’t okay, surely not, not for there to be this much pain!?

Then he started actually listening.

That voice… Henry?

He blinked, and his blank gaze regained some light behind his eyes. His shudders slowly subsided, and he reached out cautiously. His hold on Henry was at first gentle, almost afraid that Henry would shatter; would dissolve and leave him where he’d been before. Then his hold tightened, reassured, and he pressed gently into Henry’s touch.

“...I’m okay… I’m safe… With you…”

He looked up, eyes meeting Henry’s, and then pulled him into an almost crushingly tight hug.

“Thank you, Henry.”

Their moment didn’t last long.

“Oh, how very quaint.”

Nigel stepped out of the shadows, glaring at the two with a venomous hate in his eyes. His arms were folded across his chest, knuckles white as if he were clenching them tightly.

"You know, I should have seen this coming. You always were close to Scott, and now you've picked up his habits. I suppose you're going to spout some nonsense about how I hurt you, I'm wrong, the usual  _ drivel _ ."

Gordon flinched, curling close to Henry as if to block out Nigel's voice. Henry glared back, defiant.

"Tch. You should be grateful, Gordon. I gave you everything. Everything one could ever need, and I taught you what was right. You owe me everything."

Henry scoffed in disgust, and his grip on Gordon tightened slightly. North and Scott poked their heads in to listen as unobtrusively as possible, while a sneaky reporter did the same from the conference room corridor.

"He owes you nothing. You did nothing but hurt the both of us."

"I did nothing of the sort, young man. I protest your accusations."

"Oh yeah, I'm sure Truro would beg to differ. Oh, wait…"

Scott sucked in a breath at the reminder. He had never forgotten his old friend, and the metaphorical wound had never really done more than scab over. North, who'd been friends with Truro over a few compass jokes in high school, cautiously laid an arm around Scott's shoulders. It said a lot that Scott did not shake him off.

Nigel's eyes flashed. "You dare. You  _ dare. _ "

Gordon sighed. "You know it's true. We all knew it."

He pulled up a photo on his phone for an invoice, evidence Spencer had slipped him some time ago that he had never shown anyone else. It had been too dangerous. 

He was throwing caution to the wind now, but it was long past due. This had to be known.

"A payment made to A&C, for vermin extermination. Except, there is no A&C exterminators in our town. There was never any rats or bugs in any of the cars our family owned. And it was dated the same day of the crash."

Scot swept into the room, North following behind. He practically snatched the phone from Gordon, stared at the invoice for a moment, then handed it back as he turned to face Nigel.

"It was you! You bastard, he did nothing to you!"

North took a look at the photo as Scott stared Nigel down, barely keeping himself under control. Nigel sighed.

"You were never meant to find that. I was trying to rid you of his bad influence."

Scott began laughing hysterically.

"Bad influence?! He kept me in check! You just hated him because it meant I was gay, and you couldn't have that, oh no. You killed him for doing nothing more than being himself!"

North moved to stand beside Scott, viewing his father as though for the first time. His words were quiet, disappointed.

"I have always tried to protect them from you. I gave you what you wanted, caved to a petulant child, to make you happy. I suppose I really needn't have tried, then."

Nigel growled. "I see the problem has deeper roots than expected. What next, your mother comes back and tells you how proud she is of you?"

Gordon couldn't help it. He choked on his own laughter, eyes watering. 

"You could say that…"

The flash of a camera was all it took to break the tension in the room. The lucky journalist ran from the corridor, dodging guards and escaping with their story. Henry pulled Gordon to his feet, and they left followed by North and Scott.

Nigel stood alone in the corridor, in deafening silence.


	14. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tying up of loose ends and a new start.  
Chap Songs: Everything Stays (R. Sugar) + I Don’t Have A Name For It (Steam Powered Giraffe)

The word spread like wildfire, spurred by scorned business partners, rivals and disgruntled workers alike. It was less than 24 hours before the whole city knew of the Gresley family’s woes.

An inquiry was held, and Nigel would eventually be given a life sentence in prison. Alfred and Crovan would join him, flunkies to the end.

North took the best workers from their father’s company and formed his own company: leaving the tarnished remnants to disintegrate. He became a brighter star than their father ever had been, and without any of Nigel’s ruthlessness.

Scott continued to be famous and popular for a long time, staying a well-loved actor and becoming closer to all his cousins and his siblings.

Bittern, Spencer and Cana quit Nigel’s business, disowned him, and moved on. Bittern went on to become North’s understudy, Cana became a moderately successful restauranteur, and Spencer eventually ended up working with Scott as an actor. He ended up with a co-star, and lived happily for quite some time.

Gordon and Vanessa separated amiably, with Vanessa accepting visitation and the two boys going on to live with Gordon and Henry. Thomas and Percy had been uncertain at first, but when Gordon had bought them a mobile to call their mother at any reasonable hour they wished, any concerns faded away.

Gordon bought a well situated penthouse and a couple of units he could rent out, and he settled in with Henry and the kids. Edward and James got a good deal on one of the units, and moved in nearby.

-

"That's a lot of boxes, Edward."

Edward smiled at the young boy standing in the doorway.

"That's because everything James and I own is in them, Thomas. We brought everything to the new apartment."

Thomas wandered over, peeking into a box full of plates and crockery. Percy was pestering James, whose already frayed nerves were close to breaking point. He calmed as Edward walked over to drape an arm around James' shoulders.

"Hey Percy, why don't you and Thomas see if you can go help Henry with the pies?"

The two dashed off, laughing and giggling, and James pulled Edward into a hug.

"Thank you. Those two stress me out so much, I might lose my splendid hair to frustration."

Edward chuckled. "And that would be a disaster, wouldn't it?"

James smiled, pressing close to his partner. "I just can't believe it all worked out. I… I thought we'd have to struggle for the rest of our lives."

"We got lucky. So we have to take that luck, and live."

They spent a few peaceful moments together, before Thomas and Percy ran down the corridor with a steaming bundle in their arms. Their cackles had barely faded before Henry came rushing past, Gordon trailing the procession with an exasperated expression.

"Should we join them, Edward?"

Edward smiled, took James' hand, and the two joined the chase.


End file.
